“Come on, Fenn. Come on, Daugi.”

Jake led the way through the night towards the Radasanthian horse ranch that would be the site of their first mission; a trial heist. The half elf wanted to get a feel for the fae’s skills, and the mute little fellow had insisted on bringing his dire wolf along. Jake’s boots beat the packed earthen road that ran outside the city proper. His breath misted in the cool air. He wore a dark green cloak to combat the chill, while his new friend seemed to rather enjoy the frostiness.

The pair had met over an ale in a local tavern at the time Jake had appointed. Well, Fenn had ordered juice. But Jake had an ale, and they’d discussed their criminal pasts as well as plans for thieving together in the future. Well, Jake had discussed it. Fenn had mostly gestured, writing things down on occasion when he needed to make a point. They had agreed that pulling a local job near Radasanth would allow them to solidify their teamwork before heading down to Serenti for the Fallieni yearlings.

“This will be no problem,” Jake assured Fenn as they crept along the base of the stone wall surrounding the property, “I used to steal horses all the time. Most merchants are too cheap to hire guards. They think a good lock and maybe a big dog will keep them safe.”

Dog? Fenn mouthed the word, clinging to Daugi’s neck as Jake stopped at the arching iron gate.

“Don’t worry,” Jake whispered as he produced two short bits of steel and deftly picked the lock on the gate, “I scouted this place beforehand. There’s no dogs!”

The half elf led the way into the ranch’s sprawling compound. He made sure to close the gate tight behind them and stayed by the walls within the thickest shadows, circling toward the large barn on the west side of the big house.

Clouds stifled the moon’s glow, and the ranch remained quiet as the three thieves sneaked into the rustic wooden barn. The door creaked shut behind them, and Jake slipped his scarf up over his nose to cover a sneeze. Straw dust hung thick in the air. He raised his palm and summoned a handful of fire to light their way.

The flickering flames illuminated long rows of horse stalls, each containing a short water trough and a bale of hay. About half the stalls were occupied by dozing horses, who came awake as the burglars approached. Nostrils flaring at the scent of dire wolf, one of the geldings let out a low whicker of alarm.

“Keep Daugi back,” Jake whispered to Fenn, “otherwise they’ll panic and we’ll get caught.” The half elf paced down the row, handful of fire held high. It did not take him long to pick out the steeds with the finest lines and healthiest teeth; he had been stealing and riding horses since he was a young boy.

Selecting a gray gelding and a brown mare, Jake coaxed the horses out of their stalls with soft clicking noises. They whinnied softly but did not rear or make enough noise to alert the merchant.

“Okay,” Jake called as he led the horses back toward Fenn and Daugi at the front of the barn, “open the door!”